


Lust Madness Mayhem

by malaay



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7686577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malaay/pseuds/malaay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CL scores a frightening fuck buddy. Why not dance with the Devil when there are no angels to be found?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My brain did a thing. Many liberties taken. What is canon? Sorry.

“I think I finally found somebody to do it.”

Chaerin Lee blinks slowly at the flute of Dom Perignon shoved into her hand and then up to Daphne Dubois’ beaming face. Silently she hopes that the weed in her system has muddled her hearing. She hopes that her friend isn’t actually serious about it.

“To do… what?” Chae chooses to play dumb.

“To. Kill. Dennis.” Daph is indignant for apparently having to repeat herself. “We’ve talked about this like a billion times.’

Chae shakes her head at how easily those words leave the other woman’s mouth. It’s fucked up. Dennis Dubois is a certified dick- certainly. But did the man deserve to be murdered? Surely patricide isn’t the only solution. She wouldn’t be as bothered by it if it was just drunken chatter but Daph was a bit unhinged and a lot impulsive so anything was possible. Even the unthinkable.

“Is that why we’re slumming it in the bowels of Gotham tonight? To celebrate?”

D laughs at her, shrugging. “We’ve partied in worse. Besides, Nate’s supposed to meet us here with his guy.”

Chaerin almost chokes on the champagne. “Are you fucking serious? It’s happening here?”

Daphne attempts to shush her through a smile. There were people nearby in another booth. The club was fairly busy for a Wednesday night.

“This is sick. Seriously, D… I want shit to do with what you’re planning.”

Daphne quickly snatches the handbag from the silver-haired woman’s clutching hands. “Oh my god, will you take a fucking breath? Did I say anything about meeting a killer tonight?”

Chaerin stills for a moment, huffing with annoyance.

“It’s just Nathan and a coworker or whatever.” Daphne smirks and pulls her closer. “And hey, if the guy isn’t completely gross, maybe you can get laid tonight and relax. You’re way too pressed.”

Shrugging her off gently, Chae waves away the pathetic attempt at humor.

“I just don’t want to be an accessory to murder, k? I can catch dick any time I want.” Chae snarls and fills her glass back up to the brim. “Besides, I wouldn’t touch your buddy or any of his goons with a ten foot pole.”

Daphne giggles behind a fresh cigarette. “You’re so stuck up, CL. I imagine very few people are able to meet your ridiculous standards and actually get to see your pussy, huh?”

Chaerin rolls her eyes at the accusation just as the lowlife of their conversation appears. Five or so other guys in tow. They look as menacing as they probably intend to… all black clothes and sunglasses in the dim indoors. Except for the freak with bright green hair. Silver blazer and a pimp cane.

Jesus Christ, what a creep show.

“You should try to be half as discerning with the ones you let run up in you, sweetheart.” Chae finally retorts, her eyes still on the clown, but her friend’s attention is already locked onto their approaching company.

Nathan Lozano is a charming cokehead in his mid-30s with a lengthy rap sheet. He’s been in and out of jail for most of his adult life for theft, possession, assault and other violent crimes. He’s reliable for a decent score but not much else. Chae will only deal with the scumbag in ounces and grams while Daph sees fit to fuck him occasionally. Probably to piss off her old money family… namely Monsieur Dubois.

“What I tell ya? Not bad, right?”

His stale breath is heavy with the stench of ciggs. He’s nuzzled in between them from behind the rounded booth they were sitting in, his chin nearly resting on their shoulders. Chae visibly recoils from him in disgust.

Nate turns to the more welcoming of the two. “Didn’t think you classy babes would actually turn out.”

Daphne ignores the subtle dig. They are in a seedy part of town. This isn’t their usual crowd or scene. Any other night, they’d have avoided places like these like the plague.

“Why not? Any spot you recommend would be crazy fun, I’m sure. We had to check it out.”

His unshaven face breaks into a lecherous smile and he leans in closer. “I’ll show you fun…”

While Daphne encourages him with more giggling and a peck on the lips, Chaerin fights to keep the bile down her throat.

“For fuck’s sake…”

Doubtful that they hear or care, Chae mumbles something about heading to the toilet and grabs her purse with no mind to return. D can find her way home. They’ll most likely end up screwing again anyway.

It’s just as suffocating beyond the velvet rope. A gaudy circus. Bodies bump against her as she tries to slip between them in the dark. The bass of the music pounds against her chest but still isn’t loud enough to drown out the whack ‘Hey baby’s’ that float her way. She circumvents them with a stone face, focused on the bar just a few more feet away. Something strong and bitter before braving the late night to hail a cab.

Straight liquor is the worst but effective. It takes her 3 full gulps to down what the bartender serves up. No chaser because she doesn’t want to look like a wimp but the urge to gag is still vaguely there. Chaerin shivers against the chill just as the warm influence of the alcohol starts to spread. From her core to each extremity, the brown stuff ignites her blood. The sharp edges of irritation dulls, her mood is already improving. It matters a little less that the night has been a wasted one. Her concern for the type of company Daphne chooses to keep wanes. She can forget for a moment that thugs and criminals currently surround her and that the probability of finding herself in a sticky situation is ridiculously high.

A short mental countdown then she's up again, steadying herself atop 5 1/2 inches of Alaia. Chaerin is more comfortable in a pair of stilettos than she is barefoot any day but it's a tricky trek to the exit. Dancing bodies, drunken bodies... a sea of unpredictable obstacles. So when she feels the collision of her shoulder against another, the inevitable splash of a cold cocktail across her toes, Chae drops her head back and growls at the dark ceiling. Goddammit.

Determined to get away from the crowd, she pushes her way through a gurgled apology and a mess of Spandex in search of a sink. A door with a mounted restroom placard comes into view and Chaerin quickly ducks inside. More concerned about the cleanliness of the space than which gender it was designated to, she scans the place briefly. Then tumbles back a few steps.

As her brain registers each gruesome detail of the scene before her eyes, Chae is convinced that she is officially the unluckiest person alive to witness something like this. Second, perhaps, only to the bloody guy slumped over on the pot in the middle stall. If he's alive at all. Blood clumped in his hair, drenched his shirt, dripping into the sizable pool collecting at his feet.

Bloody guy moans something awfully painful and it shakes her from her stupor. She reaches behind her for the door but can't turn away from what's in front of her hazy eyes. A slither of her conscience wants to help him.

"He says you're in the Gents."

Chaerin cuts her eyes to the far left, following the eerie voice.

Had he been there the whole time? Blood speckled across his inked chest and torso. Skin still white as alabaster under the yellow lights. Shirtless and casually soaping his hands at the sink. The foam just as red as mouth.

The clown speaks again when her attention is fully his.

"Maybe. Can't be sure. Jaw's been smashed to smithereens."

He howls in laughter. Silver teeth on display as he extends his arms and shows off the brutal state of his knuckles. So pleased with what he's done.

Chaerin feels her face begin to numb with fear. At a loss for words as the psycho saunters over to where she stands. He moves with ease as she's rooted in her spot. He looks less cartoonish at close range. More dangerous. Deranged. Unblinking blue eyes and a mouth that reminds her of carnage.

He backs her up against the door. Close enough for her to catch a hint of chlorine and copper on his body. Bleach and blood.

He waits a long silent moment before raising his hand towards her. Chae shoves both forearms at him instinctively in defense but it only makes him chuckle low and languid. The clown pulls sheets of paper towels from the dispenser nearby and makes a show of wiping his wounded hands. Big silver smile is all she can see.

"You come here alone, doll?"


	2. 002

It was a rhetorical question. No one would be able to help her anyway.

“I’m sorry…” Chaerin whispers.

His invisible eyebrows shoot up at her reply. Eyes fixed on her heaving chest. The clown steps in even closer, pushing on the shell of his right ear as if he didn’t hear correctly.

He’s just inches away and her lips begin to tremble.

“For interrupting… I’m sorry.”

She diverts her eyes quickly when his makes contact suddenly. There’s an economy size bottle of Rinse All on the floor that she hadn’t noticed before. Chae feels a grip of nausea crawl up from the back of her skull. What has he done with all that bleach or what does he have planned?

“Interrupting… what?”

He hooks his cold fingers into the gold chains above her cleavage and yanks her from the wall. Growling the last word into her temple, leaving waxy red residue behind.

She whimpers at his display of aggression. Breathing hard and quick. She smells his metallic breath, the lipstick. Chaerin holds her hands up in the air in surrender. The goal was not to provoke him.

“You were washing your hands. I… I should have knocked first.”

It sounded just as ridiculous out loud as it did in her head but it was the first thing that her mind could produce. Apologizing for having walked in on him maiming or possibly killing someone would have landed her the same fate no doubt.

He laughs like a maniac at her words and it’s a bit of relief because his response could have been to bash her brains in. She's still waiting for it.

The clown slips his hand up to her jaw and forces her to meet his wild eyes.

“That’s right, darlin. I was washing my hands of a chatterbox that didn't keep his word.” He spits over his shoulder in his victim’s general direction. He tilts her head the same way so she can’t escape the sight of him still unmoving on the toilet. The clown digs his nails into her cheeks when she dares to close her lids.

Her eyes begin to water. She’s actually going to die tonight for having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She curses Daphne again.

“What about you, sweet cheeks? Are you fond of the blah blah blah?” He presses his index finger into her lips. “Are you a chatterbox like good ol’ Ralphie there?”

To show some sincerity, Chaerin wills herself to look into his killer blues. Blinking quick to keep tears from falling.

“No.”

She kept it short to prove a point. Begging for her life might actually make him angrier.

“Hmm.”

He sounds like he’s considering it, releasing her face from his grip and gives her left cheek two stern taps. The weight of his rings sting. The clown chuckles darkly when she can’t suppress a wince of pain. Then his deep eyes flash something menacing.

“I don’t know if I believe you…”

He gets in her face again, his hand wrapped around her neck. “What if you’re just a pretty little liar?”

With his free hand, he grabs the handbag that had been hanging on her shoulder all the while. Then his forearm is forced under her chin and against her windpipe. “Just a pretty little sweet talker, huh?”

Chae immediately claws at the muscle threatening to block her airway completely. The pressure behind her eyes build and becomes painful. Her face tingles as blood flow is interrupted.

“Please…” It hurts to speak. Her wide eyes begin to run as he springs a switch blade open right by her face.

“Shhhh, I’m not going to kill ya...”

The clown stabs the leather purse being held by the side of her head without warning and rips it open. Chaerin flails against him in pure terror and cries openly once she realizes that the knife is not in her body. He ignores her as he digs through the contents of the gutted bag. Her belongings fall to the linoleum one by one until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Well hello there, Ms. Lee.” He presses her driver’s license to her forehead and examines her features intensely. Hums in satisfaction. 

“Age 23, resides on West 87th.” He gives her an exaggerated thumbs up. “Very nice. Uptown girl.”

She doesn’t respond. The very little oxygen he is allowing to flow in her body makes it hard to fight. Makes it hard to do much of anything. Chae leans back into the bathroom door as much as she can to escape some of the pressure. Resigned and just trying to stay conscious.

As he’s pocketing her information, someone tries the doorknob and then pounds from the other side. The clown waves his blade in warning and motions for her to stay silent.

“Boss? You still in there?”

He finally releases her from the chokehold and dares her to move with a squint of his eyes. The door is pushed open forcefully behind her and she stumbles to a corner as 2 large masked men enter. They look down at her and then to their ‘boss’.

“We gettin rid of both?” One asks cooly.

Boss clown keeps his eyes on her and then breaks into a devilish grin. He rubs his chin in thought for a while, seemingly debating it in his sick head. When she’s on the verge of tears again, he waves them off.

“Nah. Today’s her lucky day.”

The goons shrug and quickly stride over to poor Ralphie in the stall. They lift him up easily like he’s a rag doll. Completely silent and lifeless.

Chaerin gasps at the realization and covers her mouth with both shaky hands to stifle a scream. They move quickly. She shrinks closer to the wall as they walk by with the dead body. One returns to douse the space with bleach and picks up clothes that the clown had taken off during the beating.

“Three minutes, J.”

The boss grunts in acknowledgement. He’d walked over to the mirrors to slick back his green hair and adjust his heavy jewelry. Chae watched him closely. Such nonchalance as he splashed water behind his neck and rubbed away the rest of Ralph’s blood from his stomach. JOKER in huge black font above his navel.

“You be a good girl now, Ms. Lee.” His tone is patronizing as he slinks back over to her. Very aware that she’s taking him in fully. Memorizing the details of her abuser.

“Make good choices.”

He brings her license into view again to remind her of the predicament that she's in. Flips it in between his fingers as if he was showing her a card trick. Spreads his messy mouth like a cheshire cat when he’s in her face.

“I’ll be in touch.”

\- - -

She eventually makes it home half-awake and shaking. Harin's in too but she doesn't feel any safer for it. Her baby sister's presence makes things so much worse. How can she protect the youngest Lee when she can't even deal with what happened herself? Had she doomed the younger woman for actually coming home? The clown has their address but she didn't know where else to go.

Instinct kicks in and Chaerin turns every lock on the doors of her family's Brownstone and punches in the alarm code in the hallway. Pulls all the blinds and the curtains closed on the first floor. She switches on all the lights and grabs a big knife from the kitchen.

Harin finds her standing motionless in the middle of the living room with the long blade in her hand, staring at the front door. "Chae?"

She remains at the foot of the stairs just in case Chaerin is drunk out of her mind again or under the influence of whatever Daphne talks her into doing.

"Are you OK?"

The eldest takes a deep breath. "Mmhmm. I was just going to cut a.. uh, a pineapple." Chaerin raises the kitchen knife as proof. "But then I thought I heard someone knocking on the door so..."

"At 2 in the morning?"

She flashes Harin a quick tense smile before striding back to the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she replies, "Yeah, you know Daph..."

The younger woman rolls her eyes and repeats the name in a nasally voice. Making evident that she's not Team Daphne.

"She's an eternal sorority chick. I don't get why you hang with her as much as you do."

Chae is most thankful that someone had done the shopping earlier because there is a large bowl teeming with fruit on the center island. Pineapple included. She grabs a cutting board and follows through.

"She's fun and uncomplicated." For the most part, Chae reminds herself. "I'm not looking for anything too deep. Besides, I already have a bff."

She gives Harin a peck on the cheek and hands her a dish of fresh fruit. The younger sister grins.

"Are you home for a while?" Chaerin asks her.

"Two weeks, I think."

Chae nods, her mind slipping back to the terror of just a few hours ago. "Well just be careful."

She says it softly and with such distance. Harin gives her another odd look. "Why?"

"I mean in general. When you're home alone or out late... you just never know these days."

Chaerin tries to smile while her sister laughs. Ignorance is such bliss.

"K, mom."

Harin wishes her a playful goodnight before taking her share of pineapple upstairs. Chae reciprocates but doubts that she herself will get any sleep. She waits until her sister's door clicks shut before tossing the rest of the fruit and leaving the used wares in the sink. Back in the living room, she contemplates switching off the lights but gives into the little part of her that is comforted by the brightness. At least it looks like someone's awake downstairs. The only bedroom on the second floor is Harin's. She had claimed it before anyone else could, bitching about not wanting to climb 2 sets of stairs everyday. Remembering their first years in the home made Chaerin smile a little. A very brief moment of warmth and happiness comes through.

Chae lights the entire floor as well before settling on the chaise lounge by the large window. She decided against going up to her own bedroom, wanting to be as close to Harin as possible without further arousing her suspicion. The drapes are heavy as she drags them closed. She leaves a small gap to be able to peer down to the street. They're empty. The tall lamps shining down on the sidewalk and the tops of parked cars make the quiet block glow. Despite what she had experienced and what she currently feels, all looks normal. Like any other sleepless night she spends out on the balcony sipping tea or inhaling dro.

Easing up just a touch, Chaerin unstraps her heels finally and digs the flesh of her palms into tired eyes. She feels the weight of smudged eye makeup on her cheeks but is suddenly too exhausted to care. She blinks away the blurriness as she focuses on the glare of lights at the neighbors' across the way. Perhaps they're awake as well and that provides her a little needed comfort. She and Harin are not alone for once. She barely has the energy to stifle a yawn. Chae officially loses the fight with sleep when she sinks further into the lounge, her head resting on its stiff arm. Heavy lids closing.

Street level, bright white beam of headlights flash on. A sleek dark car pulls out and rolls slowly by before peeling off loudly. Screeching tires and a demented howl in its wake.


	3. 003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Triggering filth ahead.

_Dennis Cyrille Dubois was dead on arrival to Gotham General. The successful businessman, 63, was beaten and fatally shot by two masked gunmen as he was leaving his office on Monday evening. Security personnel found him laying beside his vehicle on the basement level of DCD Tower at around 6:30PM. Police are currently investigating._

Frost is adamant about taking care of the bottom feeder Lozano and his little accomplice immediately.

"We should clean this up before the cops come poking around."

He drops a file of surveillance photos on his boss' desk and awaits instruction.

"They're always poking around, Jon."

The Joker sighs. He's uninterested. People get shot and killed all the time. Rich daddies are no exception. Gun in hand, he humors Jonny and flips through the various images of Lozano and the murderous heiress canoodling in different locales. He pauses briefly at a grainy shot taken a week ago at the club.

"I had the cameras checked. She's only been around once or twice. But that's enough to lead Gotham PD's finest here, I'm sure."

Joker grunts, part of his mind still with the photograph he tucks at the very end of the bunch. Throws the pile down without sifting through the rest.

"The hit wasn't sanctioned. My hands are.." he holsters the piece back in place by his ribs. "Clean."

The clown rises from his desk and stands toe to toe with his most loyal henchman. He places both hands on the taller man's shoulders. A reminder of who gives final orders.

"Don't get worked up over nothing, Jonny Boy. Unless we were in bed with this Dubois fellow, who cares if he caught some lead?"

Frost doesn't meet his eyes. His disagreement is evident but remains unspoken. He knows better.

Joker chuckled, remembering that he's mostly apathetic to this whole melodrama. Bratty bitch gets her pleb of a boyfriend to take out her father. Loverboy just happens to associate with the crew from time to time, making collection runs or placing bets at the tracks for the boys. It could get a bit sticky but he was never one to back down from a fight with the pigs if it came to it.

"Ok, ok, ok..." he starts as if he's giving into a child. "Do what you think is best. If you're gonna get rid of them... only those two."

His mind flashes to heavily kohled eyes and long silver hair. He wonders if she's on Frost's radar. The stack spilled across his table would suggest so.

"Don't bag a third body unless I say so."

Jonny Frost is still wordless, growing curious. The Joker seems almost reluctant to do what needs to be done. Neutralizing a threat by whatever means necessary.

"I'm coming across clearly, Frosty?" The green-haired man steps in closer to emphasize his words. An effective habit.

Jon looks into the Joker's cool blue eyes and notices then that the Clown Prince of Crime isn't wearing his usual war paint. No dark powders to smear around his eyes to offset the blood red lids and ghostly skin. Thin lips as invisible as all the hair on his face. His mouth doesn't look like he's been feasting on the innards of babies for once. Still odd but as close to human as he's been in a long time. Physically anyway. Jonny knew that the boundless lunacy lurked shallow and very near the surface.

"Crystal."

Falling back into line quickly, he's rewarded with the eerie silver smile. Menacing. Usually a precursor to unexpected violence and assault. He begins to wonder if he'd come across as too demanding. A little afraid.

"Atta boy."

Jonny Frost is dismissed with a sly wink. He moves to collect the evidence that he had brought with him but is stopped abruptly. Drops his chin obediently and rushes away to tend to business.

A growl. "She's mine."

\- - -

Her cell buzzes just as she's bent over to clear another line. Her eyes water at the familiar sting/tingle in her sinuses but she can still see Chae's grinning face clearly on the screen. Daphne rejects the call like she'd done the earlier ones.

By the time Nathan pulls her back into bed and off of her feet, she's floating beneath his rough hands. Numb, weightless.

He slurps on the pale skin of her neck as he pushes his fingers against her through thin dry cotton. She turns away from his rank breath- whiskey and bong stink. His dick is firm when he guides her hand there. Daphne reaches into his briefs and pulls the warm flesh from its tucked position and strokes softly. He groans appreciatively as she blinks up at the shaky fan spinning shadows on the ceiling. She drags her free palm across her nose, pulling air quickly through her nostrils. The burning pain in the middle of her face is acute and the sensation of dropping head first down 100 stories turns her stomach. Completely off balance, free falling while she's back flat on a shabby mattress.

Cold fingers slip into the crotch of her panties and it sets her off. Shock. Remembering. "No. Papa."

She chokes on the words as they leave her throat, pisses herself a little in utter fear.

"Shit baby..." He moans, rolling his hips against her now still hand.

Head full of powder and gut sloshing with liquid fire, he mistakes her reactions for arousal. He gives up on his shitty attempt at foreplay now that she's wet. It never mattered much to him anyway.

Nathan takes hold of both of her thighs and pulls her flush against him. The brief movement is enough to unsettle her, dizzy. He spreads her wide and pushes her knees towards her tits, slurring profane things about her pussy. She doesn't have the energy or the mind to bitch at him about protection. He hadn't been hard enough to keep the latex on when they fucked earlier in the day and fussing about it eventually made him go limp. The coke and the booze sure didn't help but she didn't want to piss him off anymore than she had already.

Daphne makes a face at the wad of saliva that he drops on her lower belly, completely missing the mark. He wipes it down her mons hurriedly with his hand and rubs the spit into her abused skin. She cries out and clutches at the air between them when he shoves in 2 fingers without warning. He thumbs her clit and tells her to relax as if he finally realizes that she's nowhere near ready.

With the little strength that she can muster, Daphne reaches down when his fingers are gone to check for blood. It wouldn't stop him if there was but at least she'd know what to expect and how to cope.

He swats her hand away and taps her clit with the head of his cock. Grinning at the way she closes her eyes against his ministrations and the sensations it brings his own body. He drags himself down the cut of her and thrusts. Half-hard, he manages only to sheath the tip of himself. Nathan pulls out with a huff and tugs on his dick while demanding that she be more of a help. When she grabs for the back of her knees, he growls in frustration. He snatches her hands from their positions and pulls them down beyond her hips to her ass. Finally understanding, Daphne reaches around the base of her thighs and pulls on her lips to reveal herself completely.

He continues to handle her body as he sees fit. Presses her down to the mattress for the best angle and drives into her again.

She keeps her eyes closed.

\- - -

Chaerin asks the cabbie to drop her off a couple of streets away from where she thinks Nate Lozano lives. The short trek would give her a little time to come to her senses and hail another for home. It should have been her original destination after no one had answered at the Dubois' loft but she couldn't stop worrying about her friend. The only person she really socializes with when Harin is away for school. The younger Lee bought the bouquet currently in her hand as a sign of respect after the news broke about Dennis Dubois. The sympathy flowers are now two days old and not holding up well against the cold. Chaerin tosses them into someone's trash bin along the sidewalk before crossing the street. Daphne wasn't into the mushy shit anyway.

It's just dusk so the street lamps aren't on yet but she can see the bright lights of the bodega on the next block. That's the street. He's on the 3rd floor above Ortega's. She hopes that Daph's druggie friend and another of Lozano's customers has given her the correct info. The last street to cross is approaching and she immediately slows her pace. Realizing slowly that she is alone in a rough part of town. In the stomping grounds of a man who she could never get comfortable around and who always made her feel like prey. Chae hadn't really thought through her course of action should Daphne not be with the guy. All she had was a gut feeling. But what if it was worst case scenario and it's only Nate she encounters tonight?

Chaerin barely makes it to the curb before a cold hand wraps around her face. Both of her arms are held tightly against her body as she's pulled into the shadow of a large tree.

"Before you scream your pretty face off, look across the street."

She shuts her eyes at the feel of her captor's lips against her ear and fights for air behind his palm. She understands his instruction despite the total terror that grips her body and mind. Before opening her eyes, she sees the cold metal pressing into her cheeks are large gold rings and the teeth he's baring against her earlobe are shiny and silver. 

"If you want your friends to live, you'll do as I say..."

The Joker continues to hiss against her skin as she blinks to focus on masked men dragging Daphne into a large van. She's naked and hysterical. They throw Lozano in after her.

The haziness returns and she can't breathe.


End file.
